That he’d added something to that great trust of his — a provision, a clause — for a person in South Carolina.

For your mother’s family.

He knew, you see, what his people had done to her, all those years ago.

And a dying coward sometimes tries to buy back his soul.” He shook his head.

“I didn’t understand all of it.

I only knew the Kincaids might come sniffing back around this county, and I prayed they never would, and I said nothing to you, because what good would it have done?

I never dreamed one of them would find you before I could warn you.